


Maybe the devil's not so bad after all

by Sludgeman101



Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: Bastardized spanish, Body Horror, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gratuitous Foreign Languages, Implied Sexual Content, Murder, Original Character(s), Physical Abuse, Romance, Swearing, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:36:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7279498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sludgeman101/pseuds/Sludgeman101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stumbling in after a painful past, the new ruler of the land of the cursed races towards an uncertain future with the girl of his dreams.</p><p>Or that would be the story, if that's what I felt like writing. In all honesty, this is a story about a seriously fucked up dude, who sometimes has good intentions, with humor ranging from bad to cringe worthy sprinkled in so that its not too depressing. </p><p>Takes place a short while after the events of the movie, going off of additional information about other gods (El Chamuco, ruler of the land of the cursed and La Noche, ruler of the land of the unknown). This also includes figures from other mythologies too. A lot of characters are going to be OOC too, really just because I'm a crappy writer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> I am going to apologize preemptively to anyone who either really cares about or knows a lot about Mayan or Aztec mythology, because I'm probably going to bastardize a lot of it.

Xibalba hated parties.

Especially parties with other gods.

He had groaned when La Muerte he read the invitation. All the gods were invited to celebrate the day of the dead, hosted by Tezcatlipoca himself.

"But shouldn't we visit The Land of The Living like we do every year?" He asked.

"I thought you didn't like visiting the mortal realm?" She asked amusedly.

"Well... I don't. But you do. Why would you rather go to a stuffy party with people who you almost never talk to? Besides, with our luck my brother and your sister will be there"

La Muerte though back to the centuries of not talking and rivalry they had faced with El Chamuco and La Noche. “So? We probably won't even see each other. And besides, the last party I attended was two centuries ago."

Xibalba crossed his arms and said sardonically. "You rule a realm that is literally a non-stop party."

La Muerte put her arms around his waist and looked up at him with the most seductive face she could manage. "Please, balby, for me?"

He frowned at her for a few seconds, and then broke with a groan. "Ugghh, fine"

She squealed in delight.

"But you have to help me with names, and let me eat all the desert I want."

…...

And so there they were, in the luxurious palace of Tezcatlipoca. The columns and floor were made of turquoise and black lignite. the walls were each a different color, the northern one was black, the eastern one was red, the southern one was blue, and the western one was white, all adorned with large engravings of jaguars.

Dominating the room was Tezcatlipoca's throne, adorned with seashells and skulls. Behind it on the wall hung a ginormous smoking mirror. Sitting on it was, of course, the jaguar god himself, looking as regal and majestic as ever.

The palace filled with gods and goddesses, fine music accompanied the buzz of many conversations.

Xibalba stood in a corner, pretending to examine a carving. In reality, he was bored out of his mind, but he wanted La Muerte to think he was enjoying himself. She was off in a conversation with the Candle Maker, leaving him alone.

And then it got worse.

El Chamuco had found his way to the corner as well. La Noche wasn't with him, so Xibalba assumed that they were having the same experience. El Chamuco recognized his brother as well, and both gods turned away from the other and welcomed the awkward silence.

The large palace doors opened, and he internally groaned. If he had to hear "presenting lord/lady 'whatever', ruler of 'who cares'!" he'd bash his skull in with his chalice.

But instead of a god, an odd creature entered instead. 

Xibalba glanced over at El Chamuco, who scowled darkly at the sight of the creature and hurried over to his wife.

Intrigued, he moved quietly nearer to the throne in order to hear better.

The creature quietly walked to Tezcatlipoca's throne, and bowed deeply before speaking in a gentle and slightly deep male voice. "Your Excellence. It is my regret that Lord Metnal will not be able to join in your festivities this evening."

Tezcatlipoca frowned momentarily, then spoke in a grave tone. "That is regretful indeed. My thanks for informing me of this. May I know why he is indisposed?"

"I am afraid to report my lord's realm is currently undergoing large changes that has put the inhabitants of the realm under great amounts of stress. My lord is attempting to negotiate with the inhabitants for various reasons, but he believed it to be rude to not be present at your celebration without an explanation and apology, which is why I am here, your Excellency."

Tezcatlipoca nodded his head slowly. "Thank you, tell Lord Metnal that I accept his apology, and am aware of the tribulations running a realm can bring."

Xibalba spied his brother and La Noche having a silent, yet apparently heated argument in a far corner.

His curiosity piqued, , Xibalba quickly slithered directly behind the creature as it neared the doors.

Just then, La Muerte ended her conversation with the Candle Maker in order to find her husband. A quick glance around the room revealed him to be walking towards the door.

She thought that he was leaving, and quickly rushed to him and grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

The noise cause the creature to turn around, and they both saw that the creature's skin was actually many pieces of different kinds of mostly white and green cloth stitched together, its' arms ended with stumps instead of hands, and in place of eyes had two large ebony buttons. Though the strangest part was the creature's mouth, marked by a dotted line of sewn black thread in the shape of a smile, which did not move as it spoke.

"Oh! My Lady La Muerte, My Lord Xibalba" it said while bowing.

La Muerte frowned confusedly. "I'm sorry, have we met before?"

"Oh! Excuse my rudeness, we have not been properly introduced. I am Patches, loyal servant to Lord Metnal."

La Muerte and Xibalba both glanced at each other momentarily in confusion.

Xibalba asked “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve met this Lord Metnal befor, have you Muertita?”

La Muerte shook her head in response.

“Oh, I guess that's to be expected. You see, my master has been very busy the last few years gaining the respect and trust of his underlings, which so far has been a long and arduous process. This has the unfortunate side effect of making his name fairly obscure amongst our pantheon.”

“You talk like he is running a realm. Which one is he in charge of exactly?” Xibalba asked.

Just then, the great doors opened, and in the doorway stood something that made Xibalba reflexively move in front of La Muerte.

He was almost Xibalba's height, dressed in head to toe in crimson armor made of scales and studded with spikes on the joints, and concealing his entire head was a red helmet that looked similar to a furnace, and had three vertical slits in the front to see out of.

When he moved, it seemed as though the scales stretched, allowing for more fluid movements.

Patches turned around and said in a surprised voice “m-master?”

He spoke in a deep voice which echoed out of his helmet. "Patches!" He said kindly, while slightly bending down to face his servant "I didn't expect you to get here so soon."

"M-my lord? What of the negotiations?"

"They ended sooner than expected. I'll fill you in on the details when we get home, but for now…" he said while nodding his head towards La Muerte and Xibalba "we have a party to attend." 

"Lady La Muerte, Lord Xibalba." He said while bowing. "It is good to finally meet you both in person."

La Muerte courtesied stiffly in response, and a quick elbow into Xibalba's ribs to get him to quit staring and bow.

Just then, the announcer noticed the new arrival, and attempted to make up for loss of time with volume.

"Presenting Lord Metlan! Ruler of the Land of the Cursed!"

All conversation died immediately, as all eyes focused on Lord Metlan. The only sound made was the sound of El Chamuco and La Noche teleporting away.

"Excuse me." He said, apologizing to the couple. 

As he passed them, Xibalba stared with his jaw open, attempting to find a face behind the slits in his helmet, but found none.

He strode slowly over to Tezcatlipoca's throne and bowed deeply.

"Your excellency, I apologize for my lateness, I was…"

Tezcatlipoca raised his hand to silence him.

"Your servant has already informed of the reason for your absence, and I have already accepted your apology."

"Many thanks, your excellency. It is very good to see you again."

Tezcatlipoca nodded in agreement.

Metnal bowed again, began to turn, when he stopped. 

Someone caught Metnal's eye. In the corner stood a goddess with long curly brown hair and skin the color of chocolate. She wore a simple red dress, a red rose in her hair, and black tinted glasses.

Striding slowly over to her with all eyes following him, got down on one knee and took her hand lightly. "Excuse me my lady, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you yet."

She didn’t look down at him, but smiled. “Nor I you, my lord. My name’s Meche, what’s yours?”

Xibalba had pushed himself and La Muerte to the front of the crowd. “What is with people and wearing shades indoors” he asked his wife quietly.

She responded with another elbow to the ribs. “Idiota! She’s blind.”

Metnal hadn’t realized this yet, and continued. “I’m Lord Metnal, ruler of the Land of the Cursed.”

Meche frowned. “Really? I thought that…”

Just then, an older god with red skin and grey hair and beard stepped between the two and put his hand on Meche’s shoulder.

“Hello, I am Lord Xiuhtecuhtli, god of fire. I am also Meche’s father.” He said with a defensive edge to his voice.

Lord Metnal gasped, and then shook the god of fire’s hand excitedly. “My Lord! It’s such good luck that we met here! How is little Rincon doing?”

Taken back by the sheer politeness of this stranger, the old god stepped back in surprise. “He is doing fine” he said, now with the edge in his voice replaced with genuine confusion.

Metnal sighed in relief. “Oh, thank you! I was so worried that he would have trouble adjusting to the new environment.”

“I am sorry, but Rincon arrived in my realm a decade ago. How long have you been El Chamuco’s replacement?”

If the helmet wasn’t covering his face, or if he even had a face, Xibalba believed that Metnal would have scowled at the mention of Xibalba’s brother.”

Scanning the room, Metnal quickly realised that he was no longer talking to the god of fire, but to almost the entire room from the large group surrounding him with curious looks.

“Oh, a short while now, I believe my predecessor wanted to keep his retirement a bit of a secret. To elaborate, I have ‘inherited’ The Land of the Cursed from... El Chamuco in the way that he offered it to me in a way I couldn’t refuse, and, there were obviously no objections from anyone else.”

A small ripple of nervous laughter spread through the crowd.

Meche spoke up. “Are you related to El Chamuco then?”

“No. Which is one of the reasons why I couldn’t refuse his offer. You see, I have no mother or father, meaning that otherwise I would have no other chances to claim a title for myself.”

La Muerte couldn’t help but feel sympathy for Metnal. “An orphan…” she said under her breath.

“I prefer bastard, gives a bit more of a commanding presence” he quietly whispered back to her.

Just then, a large bat flew into the palace, and dropped a note into Metnal’s outstretched hand. Looking it over quickly, he growled quietly in frustration.

“Patches! We need to go, there’s trouble in the House of Darkness.”

He bowed respectfully to Tezcatlipoca, then Xiuhtecuhtli, and then moved around the fire god to speak to Meche privately.

“My lady, I sincerely hope we’ll see…oh no I’m so sorry” he started, just then realizing that she was blind.

Meche giggled “It's fine.”

“My lady, I sincerely hope we’ll MEET each other again.” He said, correcting himself.

“Me too my lord.”

With that, Lord Metnal hurried outside, and in full view of all the partygoers, loud out a loud, shrill whistle followed by “Celso!”.

Immediately, a gigantic dragon as black as night with burning red eyes landed in front of him, to the shock,, fear, and amazement of different partygoers.

With one hand, he through Patches onto the beast’s back, and then leapt on the dragon himself with surprising agility.

And just like that, they were gone.


	2. Visiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Metnal meets Meche again, this time in her realm. After some talk, they agree to meet again. Metnal seeks Xibalba for advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very brief chapter with lots of dialogue, mostly just trying to set up some character interactions and other such stuff. Again I'm trying to mess with the Aztec mythology as little as possible if you're into that sort of thing.

Lord Xiuhtecuhtli sighed.

He stood on his balcony, looking over his realm. Most people didn’t realise the land of fire could be so peaceful. The sky was a soft orange, skeletal birds cawed in the distance, and the volcanoes that dotted the land slowly oozed red magma.

Taking a sip of his glass of red wine, he basked in the warm glow of the eternal flames of his palace.

A knock at his door startled him back to reality.

“Come in” he called.

One of his many servants entered. “Excuse me, my lord? There’s a Lord Metnal here who wishes to meet you.”

The old god turned to his servant questioningly “what does he want?”

“I don’t know sir, he just said that he wanted to speak with you.”

Sighing, Lord Xiuhtecuhtli quickly changed out of his robes and into his ceremonial armor.

……

He greeted his guest in the throne room, the volcanic rock that made up the floor and ceiling beautifully reflected the torches that bathed the room in light.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when he saw that Metnal was wearing armor that covered his entire body, but what really got his was the fact that it was an entirely different suit of armor.

This time he was wearing an ash-grey plate suit and a grey helmet with a pointed face and small slits for eye holes.

Upon seeing the god of fire, Metnal gave him the appropriate bow.

“ _Buenos días_ my lord,” he said, sighing “your realm is very beautiful.”

Xiuhtecuhtli nodded in agreement “thank you, you’re very kind. But, I hope you didn’t travel all the way here just to marvel at my land.”

Metnal chuckled. “Right to business, of course.” From what seemed like nowhere, he produced a very small male dragon, white as snow with eyes like sapphires, its wings were just barely strong enough to flap.

Suddenly, the two gods hear the *crack*  of wood on stone from the hallway.

Meche walked through the doorway, using a long wooden cane to avoid the walls. “ _Padre_ , who is it?”

“It’s Lord Metnal, _cariño_ , from the party.”

“ _Buenos días_ , my lady.”

Meche smiled, “ _buenos días_.”

Metnal walked over to her.

“Here, hold out your hands, his name’s Manny ” he said softly, carefully placing the tiny dragon in her arms.

“Oh! Wow, tiny one isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he just hatched a week ago.” Metnal turned to Xiuhtecuhtli, “his parents thought that it would safer for him to grow up here than in my realm.”

Xiuhtecuhtli nodded in agreement, “that’s fine, he seems to like my daughter anyway,” he said, pointing at Meche, who the tiny dragon had just fallen asleep in the arms of.

“Now, is there any more business you would like to discuss?”

“No, but if you’d allow me to, I’d like to see more of your realm. You see, the Land of the Cursed is not a very scenic place at the best of times, and besides the one or two times a year I travel elsewhere, it’s all I see.”

“Very well, one of my servants will…”

“I’ll show him around Papa!” Meche offered.

Xiuhtecuhtli glanced at his daughter, then back at Metnal, his eyes narrowing. “Meche, it’s not that I don’t want you to, it’s just that Lord Metnal probably wants to see more of the realm than you can probably…”

“I’m fine with her taking me around if she is.” Metnal cut in.

“Please Papa? We won’t go anywhere dangerous.”

Xiuhtecuhtli sighed. “Fine, but nowhere past the courtyard, I mean it, _mujer joven_.”

…..

So there they were, wandering the lush courtyard, Metnal guiding Meche by the hand, Manny still asleep in Meche’s arms.

“Funny,” Metnal said, examining an orange rose, “I always thought that you wouldn’t be able to grow anything in the land of fire.”

“Well, normal plants wouldn’t grow, but my mother grows special ones that can resist the heat.”

“Wow, might have get some of those, plant them around my realm. Then again, that might send the wrong message.”

Coming to a bench, they sat down.

“Speaking of the Land of the Cursed, what’s it like, down there?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know, it’s pretty boring for the most part, you wouldn’t want to hear about it.”

“My lord, from what I’ve heard about your realm, I think it is anything but boring.”

Searching for something, anything to change the subject, Metnal suddenly had an idea.

“How about a game?”

Meche, realising that he wanted to change the subject, played along. “What kind of game?”

“Oh, it’s very simple. I ask you a question, and you must answer truthfully, and then you ask, and so on.”

Meche thought about for a second, then agreed.

“Ok, first question. Why is your name Meche? No offense, but it seems, i don’t know, like a very ‘normal’ name for a god.”

“Normal?”

“Well, normal in the way that it seems more like the name of a human than a name of a god.”

Meche laughed. “I know. My mother said that she learned her lesson after naming my brother Huitzilopochtli that a complicated name just makes it all the more difficult to yell at someone when they were bad.”

“Wait, Huitzilopochtli , as in one of the gods of war?” Metnal asked in surprise.

“No silly, my _Padre_ thought that it would bring him good luck on the battlefield.”

“Did it?”

“Well, he’s still out there fighting in some war or other, so in a way it did.”

Metnal nodded. “Ok, your turn.”

“Hmmm,” Meche said while shifting Manny so that he was more comfortable, “ok, do you always wear armor?”

“Not all the time, but when I visit other realms I need to. You see, my armor protects me from the intense heat in my realm, I’ve gotten so used to those temperatures that now it insulates me from the cold I feel in other realms, even this one. That and, I have a reputation to keep up after all.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, let's just say that certain parties are constantly seeking a way to gain my title. Not my job, of course, but instead the powers that come with my position. You’d be surprised at how many gods are willing to go to any extreme for a place in this pantheon. So, the more intimidating I look, the less I have to fight.”

“Is that how you became ruler of the Land of the Cursed? Did you force the old ruler out?” 

Metnal laughed, but it seemed more bitter than his previous ones. “Oh, I would love to take a crack at that old bast-” he cleared his throat, “I mean, no. It was a case of me being given the job rather than me seeking it.”

Before Meche could ask another question, Metnal interrupted her.

“Well, I believe it’s back to me then. Tell me, would you like to keep Manny?”

“I’d love to!”

At the mentioning of his name, Manny opened his eyes.”

“Hey buddy! Guess who’s going to be taking care of you for a while?” He said while petting the baby dragon on the head.

“If you have to seem all tough and intimidating,” she began with a smile, “why were you so polite at the party?”

“Well, the armor was just a formality then, I wasn’t really expecting to be challenged then. Besides, good manners never hurt anybody, and I have my own reasons to be as polite as possible in the presence of Tezcatlipoca.”

Metnal stood up, gently took Meche’s hand in his own armored one, and started walking towards the castle.

“Well, my lady, it’s almost time for me to go, and I only have one more question for you.”

“What is it?”

“Do you think I’ll ever see you again?”

Meche blushed a little. “Definitely.”

“Great! Your father should be out soon, considering the fact that he was watching us like a hawk the entire time.”

“Yes, he’s very protective of his defenseless, blind _niñita_.”

“So I can guess not many boyfriends then, huh?”

Meche brown cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. ”Yes.”

“Well, as they say in Germany, _auf Wiedersehen_ Lady Meche.”

Metnal let out a loud whistle, and Lord Xiuhtecuhtli, who had been until recently spying from afar, saw the same black dragon appear out of nowhere and land a few feet away from Lord Metnal. The lord mounted the huge beast, bowed, and then was gone with a flap of the dragon’s massive wings.

…..

Metnal was sitting in a chair, slowly draining the stein of beer in his hand.

“She’s out of my depth, Patch.”

“What do you mean by that, sir?” asked patches, who was currently trying to find a way of getting the blood out of his cloth.

“I mean, what do I have here to offer her? Last time I checked, women aren’t exactly breaking down the doors to live in what is basically this pantheon’s hell.”

“Last time I checked, nothing has ever broken down those doors.”

Metnal mumbled “smartass”, then took another sip of beer.

After successfully finding a chemical that took the stain out, Patches turned to his master and said “too bad there isn’t another god in this pantheon who rules another fairly undesirable land of the dead, and is currently happily married to a very beautiful goddess.”

“Yeah, too bad, someone like that could have been really helpful right now.”

Patches tried to give his master the biggest frown he could with a mouth that didn’t move and a face that didn’t change.

Metnal chuckled playfully. “What? You take my sarcasm literally, I’ll take yours literally.”

The god stood up and began hunting for some paper and a pen.

Suddenly, Metnal turned back to Patches, arms crossed and grinning slightly. “‘Very beautiful’ huh?”

“Speaking entirely objectively, of course

“Oh, of course,” he said sarcastically, “remind me to make you a female companion.” Metnal continued searching.

“Oh no, I’m fine, really.”

“Oh, I can imagine her now. Pink and white, light yellow yarn hair. Red yarn for lips, maybe a pair of ivory buttons for eyes?”

“...You’ve been reading my journal again, haven’t you?”

“Maybe just a little, by the way, I think Petunia is a very pretty name.”

If Patches could have blushed, he would have then.

Getting serious all of a sudden, Metnal said “but before you ask, I am **not** making you a…”

“Just write your damn letter!”

Laughing again, he sat down and wrote a letter to Xibalba, then handed it off to a messenger bat.

……

Xibalba was going through the mail when a bat landed on the windowsill, holding a letter. Tearing it open, he began to read.

_Dear Lord Xibalba,_

_From one god to another, I’d like to ask for advice for courting goddesses. The reason I’m asking is because we seem to share a unique situation, or at least did at one point._

_Sincerely,_

_Lord Metnal_

_P.S. It should go without saying that this is a very private letter, and it would be for the best that you burn this at the soonest possible time._

Confused, he read the brief letter over again, before deciding on a proper course of action.

“Muertita!” he called “there’s a letter you should read!”


	3. The date part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Xiuhtecuhtli throws a party, and Metnal gets invited, but not by him. tensions rise a little, until they work out a date between him and Meche, but with a twist.

CRUNCH!

The sound of metal on flesh echoed throughout the stone room.

“Please.... have mercy… I’ll-” the god plead as he lay helpless on his back.

CRACK!

Metnal brought his armored foot down on the god’s face, silencing his pleas. Blood and viscera splattered the room. 

CRUNCH!

An armored fist almost shattered the helpless god’s skull. More blows rained down on the deity's face.

CRUNCH!

CRUNCH!

“Sweet fuck, you’re pathetic.” He sneered, readying his fist for one final blow.

CRA-ACK!

Metnal withdrew his fist from inside of the god’s face, which now looked more like a deflated balloon, if the balloon had been filled with blood and brains. The other god’s body lay motionless, as Metnal stood up from the corpse.,

Laughing breathlessly, the ruler of the Land of the Cursed turned to his patchwork companion. “You had a knife. You could have slit his throat and saved so much time.” Stooping to brush some scattered piece of skull off his metal shoe, Metnal said “he was an asshole, a quick death is something he didn’t deserve. Besides, that wouldn’t have been as fun.”

“Fair enough. What do you want me to do”  
“Get some shadows and a whole lot of rags, I think some blood got into the ceiling this time.. Besides that, some whiskey n’ some cigars.”  
“Sure thing.”

A large bat darted in through the window. It was carrying a letter in its’ mouth. Allowing the animal to land on his arm, Metnal grabbed the piece of paper and studied it.

Turning to the shades that had already begun work on cleaning the room, he gestured towards the corpse and said “throw him on the pile, the beasts can have him for dinner.”

Turning now to the corridor, he yelled after his cloth friend. “Patch! You’re in charge! I’ve got a party to attend..”

Walking to his armor room, he examined his current set and saw that it was drenched in blood. “Intimidating, yes,” he thought, “appropriate, no.”

Gazing at the rows upon rows of various sets of armor, he said “now which one of you boys wants to come with daddy this time?”

…...

The castle was buzzing with activity. Servants carrying plates of food, decorations were being hung, and Lord Xiuhtecuhtli sat on his throne, bored out of his mind. His wife was off in some distant realm, his son off fighting in some war yet again, so it was only him and his daughter here. Not that he minded, Meche was the best daughter a father could hope for. Even with her constant reminding that she has grown up, she was still his niñita.

His thoughts turned to Lord Metnal. Meche seemed to like him, but he didn’t know if he like her. Maybe he was just being polite, maybe he was just being hopeful. Either way, he had a bad feeling about him. Of course, as his wife had reminded him in the past, he had a bad feeling about everyone that seemed to have an interest in his daughter. Then again, if this Metnal is anything like El Chamuco, Xiuhtecuhtli didn’t want him in the same realm as Meche.

The doors opened, and Lord Xiuhtecuhtli peered up from his throne. He immediately inwardly groaned. “Just how many goddamned suits armor does this guy have?!”

Lord Metnal stood there, now in a dark brown suit his helmet had the trademark three slits for eye-holes. 

“Greetings, Lord Xiuhtecuhtli! I hope I’m not too early.”

“Early for what? The only invitation you have is to get the hell out of my realm!” he thought, saying instead “Greetings! It’s always a pleasure to have you here, but I’m afraid I didn’t send you an invitation.”

“But I did.” Meche said as she was being lead down the palace steps by a maid.

“I feel like I’m going insane! What the hell is going on here?!” he thought.

Meche was wearing a dress that, as Metnal noticed, went perfect with her olive colored skin, and was also the same shade of brown as Metnal’s armor. There was something else going on here, Xiuhtecuhtli was sure of it now.

“Hello again, Lady Meche,” Metnal said while taking her hand in both of his and bowing, “it appears that we match.”

Meche smiled, “oh really? I couldn’t tell.” she said, a little sarcastically.

Inwardly, Metnal screamed at himself. “You absolute fucking moron! Of course she wouldn’t be able to tell that you two matched!” What he was about to say was cut off by Lord Xiuhtecuhtli’s sudden appearance beside Meche.

“You did? Why?” he asked, more than a little alarmed. “I just thought he would like to check up on Manny’s progress.” Meche replied, with just enough innocence to make her reply possible.

With that, Meche snapped her fingers, and a slightly bigger white dragon flew next to her. “You trained him to come on command that quickly!” Metnal said, obviously impressed.

The little creature sneezed blue sparks before jumping up into Meche’s arms. “Well, I had a little help from our dragon trainer.” 

Metnal gently patted Manny’s head “And have you been good?” Manny responded by trying to bite Metnal’s finger, to which he chuckled. “Always the little fighter, aren’t you?”

Lord Xiuhtecuhtli clapped his hands loudly. “Well, seeing as my daughter invited you, please help yourself to some food and drink.”  
“Thank you, you are too kind.” 

After the armored god had left, Lord Xiuhtecuhtli grabbed his daughter’s arm. “Now what was the real reason you invited… him?” “Like I said Papa, I thought he’d like to check on Manny.” Unconvinced, god of fire frowned, “really? And you just happen to wear a dress that matches what he’s wearing?” Mehce sighed in slight annoyance. “Papi, how could I have possibly known what color he was going to wear, and even if I did, how could I have picked out a dress that matches what he’s wearing?”

Her father sighed. It's not like he could ever forget that she was blind, she had been since birth. But it was that fact that made him a little irrational concerning her safety, and he knew it. “I’m sorry Meche. I guess I got a little paranoid.” He then kissed her forehead and then traveled back to his throne to await his more expected guests.

But Meche had purposely chosen a dress that matched Metnal’s armor. She had a fire spirit watch for new arrivals and tell her what color the Lord of the Land of the Cursed was wearing. “But how will I know who he is?” the spirit had asked. “He’ll be the one in a full suit of armor, riding a dragon.” After that, it was a simple matter of have the spirit relay that information to her handmaidens, who then in turn picked out a dress of the matching color.

……

The party was in full swing. Music was playing in the background, as gods from all over the pantheon, and even some from other pantheons as well, sat at Lord Xiuhtecuhtli’s great feast table and chatted over fine wine and food.

“Uggghh, why do we have to come to another party?” Xibalba complained quietly to his wife.  
“Because Lord Xiuhtecuhtli is an old friend of mine, and it’s about time you met some other people.”  
“I hate literally everyone in this room.” Xibalba replied, crossing his arms and frowning.

Their conversation was cut short when Xibalba spied a ginormous chocolate cake. “I’ll stick around for the food though.”

La Muerte sighed in slight frustration. Her husband could at least try to meet new people sometimes. She walked over to her host and bowed. “My Lord.”

Upon seeing her, Lord Xiuhtecuhtli smiled warmly and hugged her. “La Muerte! It’s so good to see you again!”  
La Muerte returned his hug. “I’m sorry, I would have visited earlier, but I’ve been so busy and all…”  
The fire god held up his hand to silence her. “It’s fine, I completely understand.”

Xiuhtecuhtli’s smile instantly faded when he caught sight of Xibalba gorging himself on a roasted duck.  
“What’s he doing here?”  
“We got back together. He’s changed, I promise.”  
He crossed his arms. “Great, just great. Now there’s two devils at my party, why not bring El Chamuco here as well? That’ll be a party.” He grumbled to himself.  
“I’m sorry, two devils?”

Xiuhtecuhtli pointed at a brown suit of armor talking animatedly with a small group of other guests. 

“Lord Metnal? He’s wearing a different suit.” La Muerte guessed.  
“Yes, every single time he’s come here he’s wearing a different set. You see, my daughter invited him.” He leaned a little closer to La Muerte. “I think there's something going on between them.” Fire began to cover his body. “ I swear, if that demon touches my little ángel, I’ll rip his-”  
“Speaking of your daughter, how is Meche? Last time we saw each other, she was a teenager..” she said, trying to change the subject before he melted his throne. The change of subject had the desired effect, the lord of fire calmed down somewhat.  
“I’m afraid she takes after me, nearly burned the castle down when her old pet dragon died. Which reminds me, guess what Mr. Faceless over their got for her.”  
“A dragon?”  
“Yeah, funny looking thing too. All white, breathes blue flame. Little shi... thing nips at my fingers whenever I try to handle him. She spent all of last week trying to train him. ”  
“Is she making any progress?”

As if on cue, the white dragon in question soared into the room, breathing small gouts of blue flame. He landed next to Xibalba and began struggling with him to try and grab the piece of roasted duck out of his hand. Suddenly, Xibalba’s two-headed snake shot out of his armor and the two creatures snapped at each other.

Metnal let out a loud, shrill whistle. Manny immediately forgot both the food and the snake, and landed on the Lord’s shoulder. “Don’t worry Meche, here’s a little trick I learned to calm them down.” Metnal grabbed a goblet of wine, and let Manny lap it up. The small dragon almost immediately relaxed and Metnal handed him off to a servant.

He chuckled. “Really can’t hold their drink when they’re that young.” The enigmatic Lord walked over to Xibalba’s snake and scooped it up, it immediately wrapped itself around his arm,, then handed it over to the Lord of the Forgotten. “Thanks, he’s usually not that… friendly with… anyone really.” Xibalba said quizzically.”  
“It's because my armor’s warm, cold blooded animals tend to like me.”

“Are you sure those two aren’t related?” Xiuhtecuhtli asked.  
“Uhmm, I’m pretty sure. At least, Xibalba’s never talked about him before.”  
“Oh I bet there’s a lot of things he doesn’t talk about with you.”  
“La Muerte frowned at the man had known her since she was a child. “He’s changed, here, I’ll show you…”  
Xiuhtecuhtli grabbed her shoulders. “No, that’s fine. I believe you. It’s just, he’s hurt you before, I don’t to see you get hurt again.”  
La Muerte sighed.

Just then, Meche, lead by Metnal, entered the conversation.

“La Muerte!.” Meche hugged her.  
“My lady.” Metnal said while bowing.  
“You are a polite one, aren’t you?” La Muerte asked.  
“Oh, you want to hear polite?” Meche said, “you should have heard him talking to the God of Lightning.”  
The suit of armor raised its shoulders in a shrug. “I just seemed like a good idea not to piss off… excuse me... anger a god that can control lightning when you’re dressed head-to-toe in metal.”  
“So there is a man behind the metal.” Xiuhtecuhtli half asked, half sneered.  
“Yes. You see-”  
“He’s used to the heat of his realm, so his armor keeps him warm.” Meche cut in.  
“...thank you. That and, after you wake up in the middle of the night to a cursed beast looming over you and you end up having to smother it with your pillow, protection is a pretty welcome feeling.” Metnal joked.  
“You killed a cursed beast with only a pillow?!” Xibalba asked, butting into the conversation.  
“Well, I did have to soften it up first with my fists.”  
“So you killed a cursed beast that had surprised you with your own bare hands and a pillow?”  
“Yes, that was only my first one though, so it was a bit sloppy.”  
“Are you an ancient god?”  
Metnal laughed. “Oh no, not by a long shot. I’d say I’m about Meche’s age.”  
Xibalba’s jaw nearly hit the floor.  
“What’s so special about killing a cursed beast?” La Muerte asked.  
“Warriors from the Land of the Heroic, fully armored ones with weapons and a lifetime of training, can get killed by as little as three of them.”

Metnal was about to say something when a very muscular god, not one from their pantheon, probably from Europe, came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, are you the ruler of the Land of the Cursed?”  
“Indeed I am.”  
“Could you please come with me for a second?”  
“Sure.”

They both walked a short ways away from the party, out of earshot for most. The stranger stood a good two feet taller than Metnal. “Lord Metlan,” he began confidently, “by the ancient rules, I challenge you to a…”  
Metnal laugh and placed his hand on the other’s shoulder. He then quickly produced an obsidian knife and held it to a very sensitive part of the stranger’s anatomy. “Listen you little shit,” Metnal whispered viciously, his grip on the god’s shoulder tightening , “I’m in no mood for a duel right now, so if you don’t fuck off right now,” he pressed the blade harder against the god’s sensitive region, “you’ll be singing soprano for the rest of your life. Nod if you understand me.” The god nodded nervously. Metnal looked up at him, and the god saw, for the first time, pst the three slits in his helmet, in the inky darkness, two burning blood-red spheres blazed. “Don’t ever let me see you again.” He released his hold on the stranger’s shoulder and discreetly placed the blade back up his gauntlet. The stranger in turn sprinted out of the castle in fear.

Returning to the group, Metnal said “sorry about that, little bit of business I had to take care of.”  
“Oh really? What kind of business involves the other person running away looking like they’re going to shit themselves.” Xiuhtecuhtli asked suspiciously.  
“Well, you see, uhhh…”  
“Wasn’t there something you wanted to ask my Padre?” Meche asked Metnal.  
“Right! Well, Lord Xiuhtecuhtli, ruler of the Land of Fire…”  
“He wants something” Xiuhtecuhtli thought cynically.  
“I was wondering if, with your permission, Meche could come visit me, in my realm, for dinner.”  
“Absolutely not!” He yelled.  
“Without a chaperone. Which is I-” Xibalba began, earning a both suspicious and angry look from the lord of fire.  
“Believe that I and Xibalba will act as chaperones for them.” La Muerte added, sensing that Xibalba desperately wanted to visit the Land of the Cursed, and also knowing that Xiuhtecuhtli would never agree to the date otherwise.

Thinking for a second, Xiuhtecuhtli grumbled. “Fine,” he pointed at La Muerte and whispered, “you watch them like a hawk.” “Xiuhtecuhtli, I swear, she won’t ever leave my sight. Besides, the presence of my husband should help keep things civil.”  
Apparently he liked her explanation, and even smiled a little at her. “Ok, you four can meet, sometime next week.” He grabbed Metnal’s wrist and pulled him close, “and if you even think about touching her, I will-”  
“Papi!” Meche yelled exasperatedly. He slowly released Metnal from his grasp.

Just then, the three gods noticed that an entire room's worth of gods were staring at them., with Meche sensing the awkward situation.

Xiuhtecuhtli cleared his throat, “as you were.” all the guest immediately went back to their own conversations.  
Metnal gently grabbed Meche’s hand. “So, next week?” she smiled. “Next week.”  
The enigmatic ruler nodded towards group. “My lords, my ladies, I must be off.” walking backwards, he picked up a thin flute of champagne and poured it between the slits in his helmet. Xibalba sniggered a little at the sight.  
Walking out the doors, he let out a whistle, and the same all black dragon appeared, and they both disappeared into the night.  
……

Metnal felt like celebrating. “Someone! Get some good tequila!.”Next week” he thought, then smiled. “Just one more week and Meche and I will finally get to meet somewhat privately.” Suddenly, he stepped into a puddle of blood that had leaked from the corpse that was still on the floor, and his good mood instantly vanished. “Come on people! I told you to take care of this hours ago!” He shouted at the shadows. He’d have to wash it off quick, otherwise it could stain his armor, or the floor.

 

“Oh no!” He thought. “It could leave a smell!” Then suddenly, he had a worse realization. “What am I going to wear?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things: One, I really wanted to stress that even though he's pretty polite in public situations, Metnal is still a pretty heartless murderer (more reason why as the story goes on), second, I'm not entirely sure what is considered "teenaged" for a god, but what I mean is that Meche is a little bit younger than La Muerte.


	4. The date part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meche meets Metnal at his castle, with La Muerte and Xibalba in tow. 
> 
> WARNING: very long chapter ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who actually care, I missed a few weeks of updating. But, that was because I was working on this chapter, which is so long it has actually more words than the rest of the story so far, and thats why I'm splitting it into two chapters, just so that It won't be as tedious to read.

Xibalba and La Muerte waited outside the Lord of Fire’s castle. He recalled his and La Muerte’s earlier brief conversation:

“You only want to go because you want to see the Land of the Cursed.”

“That wasn’t obvious?” Xibalba deadpanned.

The huge door opened, and out walked Meche guided by her father. Xibalba quickly noticed just how modest the dress she was wearing was, mainly black with a red trim that went down to just past her knees, her long curly brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

“Hello.” she said brightly.

“I still can't believe you talked me into this.” her father sighed. “Don’t worry Papa, I’ll be fine.”

La Muerte took Meche’s hand. 

Xiuhtecuhtli whispered to La Muerte, “Just, keep her safe, please?”

She smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine.”

Xiuhtecuhtli waved goodbye to the trio from the palace steps, and they all teleported away.

……

They all appeared, much to their surprise, in the Candlemaker’s realm. Xibalba immediately shielded his eyes from the bright light of the candles.

“What's up ya’ll?” the Candlemaker asked, the Book of Life floating behind him.

“Hello Candlemaker,” La Muerte began, smiling, “we want to go to the Land of the Cursed.”

The Candlemaker’s whole bubbly demeanor  fell away for a split second as his normally bright yellow body fady to a much darker hue, before he regained his composure and he was his jolly self again.

“Why would ya’ll want to go there? Didn’t think your brother-”

“My brother doesn’t rule their anymore.” Xibalba interrupted.

“O-oh. Well,” the Candlemaker forced a laugh, “no one tells me anything anymore, huh.” he said, running a hand through his beard nervously.

 

La Muerte, slightly alarmed at his uncharacteristic behavior, asked him “Is something wrong, Candlemaker?”

“W-what? ‘Course not. It just seems weird that ya’ll would want to go there.”

“We’re going to see Metnal.” Meche chimed in.

The Candlemaker visibly jumped at the mention of his name. “Who’s that?” He asked shakily. 

“Candlemaker…” La Muerte began.

“The waterfall’s right there, should have no trouble getting there.” the normally outgoing god said flatly, now refusing to look anywhere but down.

“I think I like him better this way.” Xibalba whispered to his wife, which earned him another elbow to the ribs and a displeased look. La Muerte placed Meche’s hand in his, much to his surprise and annoyance, and approached the Candlemaker.

“Candlemaker, we’re...I’m your friend. If there’s something wrong, you can tell me.” She said softly. 

He looked at her and plastered a big, fake smile on his face. “Nah, nothing's wrong. Just, Land of the Cursed’s got some bad juju s’all. Stay safe.”

 

Something was bothering him, but it was obvious that he didn’t want to talk about, so La Muerte decided to let it go, for now.

She turned back to her husband and Meche, to see him holding his arm straight out in order to put as much distance between him and Meche as possible without her noticing. Looking at Xibalba quizzically, she gently took Meche’s other hand. 

 

“Goodbye…” she said while waving. Her response was a non-committal wave. 

The three deities stepped through the waterfall, and into a small room with no doors or windows, and with red velvet carpeting and simple seats upholstered with red velvet and leather. “Huh, well usually the waterfall takes you to the outside of the-” Xibalba began before being cut off by the loud slam of the side that had been facing the waterfall closing. The room rocked back, before shooting forward suddenly, causing all three to lose their balance and fall to the floor.

After a few moments, the room’s movement seemed to even out to a steady glide, and La Muerte picked herself off the floor and helped Meche into one of the seats. She turned to Xibalba, who has holding the back of one of the seats in a death grip, obviously nervous. She couldn't help but smile. “I thought you liked flying?” “When… I can...see...where I’m going.” He managed to say through clenched teeth.

They all felt the room come to a gentle stop, then walls on one side split open to reveal the inside of a great stone palace. La Muerte suddenly got one of the biggest surprises of her life. It was cool. She had been expecting their destination to be baking hot, but instead the air was actually a bit chilly. The surroundings were very plain, there was a red carpet on the floor, stone walls and ceiling, and yet no windows or paintings as she had seen at other castles. Lit torches on the walls served to illuminate the entire place. And of course the whole place smelled like smoke.

In the middle of the grand hallway stood a tall, very thin servant servant with brown skin. “Hello, my Lord and Ladies.” He said while bowing. Xibalba immediately saw the servant had a black right eye, a recent one from the looks of it, a few small chunks out of his left earlobe, as well as a number of scars, which were all a light tan color, two of which looked particularly nasty: one that went diagonally from above his left eyebrow to his left cheek, and the that started from the right side of his nose and went down across his lips to just above his chin. Most notably, the servant had silver irises, but they were a very dull hue, like they had hardened with the rest of his body over time. 

No doubt about it, he had been the victim of a number of beatings, and Xibalba didn’t need to guess who was responsible. Didn’t mean he had to be nice though.

“Typical” he huffed, “Mr. High and Mighty doesn’t greet his guests himself.” La Muerte tsked in disapproval of his comment. The servant replied in a voice just a little rougher than Xibalba’s. “Yes, I’m sorry sir, Lord Metnal will be joining you shortly, why don’t you follow me to the dining room.”

The gods followed him through a stone archway to a room with a fairly large wooden table, draped with red cloth and covered in a plethora of foods, some of which Xibalba recognized to be European dishes. Meche shivered. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll have someone go and bump up the heat.” the servant said, noticing her discomfort.

The servant led Meche by hand to her seat,  when he passed La Muerte, she sympathetically ran her fingers lightly against his bruised eye, he pulled her hand gently away with his free hand. “A moment of carelessness, my Lady. It won’t kill me.”

He lead her to a chair that already had a plate of food ready. The chairs were arranged so that when Lord Metnal joined them, La Muerte and Xibalba would be sitting together, and he and Meche would be as well with a space of about two meters in between the two couples.

“Is there anything I could bring to drink?”

“Wine, please.” La Muerte answered.

“Wine.” Xibalba ordered.

“Could I have some tequila, please?” Meche asked, making the other two gods look at her in surprise. 

The servant smiled a little. “Right away” he said while leaving the room.  In a few moments, he was back with a couple of bottles of wine and tequila. Pouring the wine into the older god’s glasses first, he then poured Meche a squat glass full of tequila and put it in her hand. She sipped it “mmm, smooth, what kind is this?”

“I’m not sure, but I know that Metnal was saving it for a very special occasion.”

The servant grabbed another glass and filled it with tequila, raised it in the air and said “ _ Salud!”  _ before draining it in one swallow. Sitting in the empty chair, a mischievous grin split his face, revealing a row of very sharp alligator teeth, his once dull silver eyes now sparkling with life and his previously black pupils turned bright red.

The realization quickly hit the other two gods, as from the sunny smile on Meche’s face, she had known for a while. “You’re Lord Metnal.” Xibalba groaned.

“You caught me,” he took Meche’s hand with his and kissed the back of it. “Sweetheart.” he said, his silver eyes sparking even more for a second. “Sorry, it was the only thing my father would let me leave the house in.” she said, gesturing to the modest dress with a neckline that actually touched her neck. 

“Sorry about what? You look amazing.” Upon feeling how bony his hand was, Meche’s smile faded, her happiness replaced with concern. “You said you were eating more.” “I am,” he whined good-naturedly, “ It just takes some time to bulk up.”

La Muerte looked him over again. He was so  _ young _ , it was unbelievable. He had brown skin with some parts of him lighter and other parts darker, like… wait. His skin was leather! His face sloped down to a pointed chin, he had very short black hair, and he was wearing a brown jacket. A loose fitting brown leather jacket, with a grey shirt underneath and black pants. She also noticed, to her horror, a wicked scar that ran straight across his throat. In fact, he was covered in scars. Most were on his hands, which were a mess of criss-crossed scars.

Turning to his other two guests, Metnal smiled warmly, or as warmly as he could with razor sharp teeth. “La Muerte, Xibalba. It’s good to finally see you both without that ridiculous mask in the way.” 

La Muerte glanced at her husband, who was still frowning. She internally sighed at his stubbornness. “Well, Lord-” “Just call me Metnal, please.” “Metnal,” she began, trying desperately not to stare at his eye, or his scars, or his teeth. “Well, if you don’t mind me asking, how is it that it's so cool in here? I was expecting your realm to be.... well, hot.” “I’m glad you asked. My realm is actually very hot, but this entire palace is made of very thick stone bricks, so it’s very well insulated. that , and I installed a system of pipes in the walls that runs cold water throughout the place, which makes the air as cold as I want it to be.” She was impressed. “Wow! I didn’t think water could be found down here, you’d think it would evaporate.” “Actually, you can’t find it down here. I trade with the god of water for it, I give him things like the diamonds that are created naturally down here, and in return he gives me however much water I want.”

Xibalba scoffed a little, his frown not breaking. “Don’t worry about him, he’s just angry from the ride here.” “Oh, I’m sorry about that. I told Celso to take it easy.” responding to the quizzical looks the godly couple gave him, he continued. “What you rode in on the way here was a ‘carriage’ of a sort, I designed it so that a dragon can carry it easily enough, and also have it be insulated from the extreme heat.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble, you could have just let us fly here.”

Metnal sighed, uncomfortable. “Well, I don’t doubt you could have managed, but, as I know from experience, my realm is not the most, pleasant, to witness.” 

“So, how is everyone’s food?” Metnal asked, trying to change the subject.

“Amazing!” Meche and La Muerte said simultaneously, Xibalba said nothing. “I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble setting this all up.” Meche added. “Oh, it was no trouble, really.” Patches said, appearing behind Metnal.. “It was a relief for the cooks to prepare something besides meat and cake for once.”

“Patch!” Meche yelled happily, pulling the cloth humanoid into a hug. “Hello, dear.”

“Hello again.” La Muerte said.

“Hello, my Lady” he answered respectfully. “Metnal, there’s a problem with the-” “It can wait Patch.” “Sir, you don’t understand, some of the dragons-” Metnal whispered into the side of his head where his ears would be “If they’re causing trouble again, then give them a barrel of the strong stuff and I’ll be by later to deal with them.” “As you wish.”

“Oh, so when there’s company it’s all ‘sir’ and ‘as you wish.’” Metnal grumbled quietly to himself. “What can I say, I take a break for half an hour and the whole place goes to hell.”

 

“Excuse me?” “Yes, Meche?” “I have to use the bathroom.” “Oh of course, I’ll take you.” 

“Actually,” La Muerte spoke up, knowing that letting the two walk off alone wouldn’t be what  Xiuhtecuhtli would want, “I’ll take her.”

“If you insist. It’s on the third door on the right from where you came in.”

After the two goddesses left, there was an awkward silence that permeated the room.

“You never got back to me.”

“About what?”

“About, you know, the letter.”

“Right.”

 

Metnal was waiting for him to continue, before realising that that was all he had to say.

Drumming his fingers on the table awkwardly, he desperately tried to make small talk.

“So, Xibalba, how’s the Land of the Forgotten?”

“Cold, dreary, and depressing.” 

“That's what I’ve heard. 

Sighing, Metnal guessed that he needed to pull out the big guns to get Xibalba to like him. He raised his left hand so that Xibalba could see a silver tattoo of three wolves nose-to-tail in a circle on his palm. “ _ Willkommen, mein bruder. _ ”

Xibalba’s eyes widened, as he removed the glove on his left hand to see the same symbol etched into the bone of his palm.

“Another member of the wild hunt, how?”

“During the last war, ‘the great war’ as the humans call it, I served under Valkyrie Brünnhilde. One thing kind of lead to another”

“Oh, she still angry with me?”

“What do you think?” 

“Got it.”

“Actually, speaking of the great war, I got pulled out just before it ended, you wouldn’t happen to know who won, would you?”

“How do you not know?” 

“There are... restrictions on my ability to leave my realm that I’d rather not get into right now.”

“Fair enough. Well, no single country  _ won _ the war, I guess America came out in the best shape.”

“America fought in the war?” 

Both gods laughed.

“And, how did Germany end up faring?”

“Not great, they ended up signing a treaty that basically says that they were the ones responsible for the whole war, everything else is on the downturn as well.”

“Damn humans. All that shit, and let's face it, all it’ll take is some guy with a little bit of charisma and the whole process’ll repeat itself.”

“Amen to that.” Xibalba replied, and they both drank a glass of tequila.”

“So tell me, Metnal, how did you become ruler of the Land of the Cursed?”

“Well, there’s not much on my part I did to become it. Just one day, El Chamuco shows up, beats the shit out of me, and gives me this.” Metnal pulled down the collar on his leather jacket to reveal a brand of a dragon breathing fire burned deeply into the left side of his neck. “And that the reason I got pulled from the war, actually, since Lords aren’t technically allowed to serve. Doesn’t stop them all though.”

“Wait, that means you’ve only held the position for about-”

“Only about six years, I know.” He covered his face in his hands. “If you had told me even a century ago that I would be the ruler of the Land of the Cursed at the age of two thousand, I would have said you were lying.”

“ _ Mierda _ ! You’re only two thousand! I thought you were young, but damn.”

“Yeah, what can I say. I guess I should have seen it coming, seeing as I grew up here.”

Xibalba nearly spit out his drink. “What!? El Chamuco raised you!?”

The leather god laughed bitterly. “Raised? Oh no. That rotten bastard never gave anything to me, besides the position and a few beatings. Hell, he’s said maybe a grand total of twenty words to me my entire life, and it was all the while beating me to within an inch of my life and calling me worthless.”

“Why would he keep you here?”

“Don’t know, never could ask him.”

“Are you his son?”

“No.”

“Are you his bastard?”

“I know I’m  _ a _ bastard, just not his.”

“Then why?”

Metnal stood up, the red in his pupils spilled out to the rest of his eyes, making them burn with fury. “If I’m being honest, I think so he could try and groom me to be his replacement. Look at me, I know from experience that my skin is tough, as in, my leather skin by itself is impossible to pierce by most weapons, coupled with my natural godly damage resistance, and I’m a tough bastard. My skeleton is literally made out of a special kind of steel that can heal faster than normal, just like my flesh. Hell, my teeth. They’re cursed beast teeth. All canines in the front, and a few molars in the back for grinding. Any get knocked out, all I have to do is kill one of the little shits and get some more. I’m made to survive in this hell.” He sighed, then sat back down.

“Explains how you survived the war.”

“Listen, Xibalba, I know the only reason you came is so that you could see my realm. It was kind of obvious. I’ll show you around before you leave, but, when you see it for the first time...it’s-”

“I can handle whatever horrors are outside that door.”

Metnal nodded glumly.

Of course, La Muerte and Meche were having their own conversation.

…..

“So, you seem to like him. And he seems to like you.” La Muerte said, holding Meche’s hand to guide her as they walked down the hall.”

“Well I’d hope he’d would, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now,, and we’ve known each other for longer than that.”

“What?! Does your father know?”

“You’d think Metnal would still be alive if he did?”

“Well, wow. Listen, Meche. I’d think it be better if you took it a little slower then. I mean, hiding this from your father…”

“Is it the scars?”

“What?”

“He was worried you would be frightened by his scars.”

“Well, no-”

“So then it’s the teeth then?”

“Well, maybe a little bit. But, that's not the only thing. You see, I met the last ruler of the Land of the Cursed. I mean, I really… got to know him. He seemed, nice, and caring at first. But then, he just… changed.”

“Listen, La Muerte. I’m nineteen hundred years old. I’m not that sweet, innocent little girl you knew all those centuries ago. In fact, that wasn’t even me. I had to pretend to be like that for my dad. But around Metnal… I can just, be myself.”

“Wow, I never knew…”

“It’s ok. It’s actually kind of funny, everyone says he’s a monster, even he does. But to me, he’s the sweet god that designed two typewriters that could type in braille so that we could send messages back and forth.”

When they finally reached the bathroom door, Meche instead just said “I’m fine.”

“What!? You don’t have to use the bathroom after we’ve been looking for at least ten minutes?”

“Actually, we passed two bathrooms, but Metnal said that he wanted to speak to Xibalba privately.”

“Why?” La Muerte didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if those two got into an argument.

“Well, I don’t know exactly. But, if I had to guess, it’s because, well, as sweet as he is, Metnal’s never really had a father figure in his life. I think he’s looking to bond with Xibalba.”

“Oh no.” The sugary goddess was filled with dread, and yet also a little curiosity. It would be nice for Xibalba to make a friend within the pantheon, and the idea of it seemed rather sweet, in a slightly messed up kind of way.

Sighing, La Muerte realized they were lost, as the walls didn’t have any paintings or the like to have as landmarks.

“Here, follow me.” Meche said, running her hand along the wall and then walking forward with her hand still on it. “Metnal carved symbols on the walls where hallways begin and end, as well as on doors so that I wouldn’t get lost walking around here.”

“Oh wow, that's thoughtful...Wait a second! You’ve been here before!?” “No, but he told me he did, and he kept his word.”.

When they eventually approached the dining room, they both heard the sound of two swords striking each other. Grabbing Meche, La Muerte burst into the room, fearing that a fight had broken out.

Metnal and Xibalba were fencing like tigers, both of them expertly dodging and blocking each other’s lightning quick slashes. “Oh hello!” Metnal said between blows. “Good to see you found your way back ok.”

“What’s going on here?”

“Me and Metnal are in the middle of a wager, first one to disarm the other or draw blood from the other’s chest is the better swordsman.”

Xibalba blocked a slash that had been inches from his face. Metnal parried a thrust that would have impaled him had his reflexes been slower.

For five minutes this went on, neither gaining ground nor slowing down, the sound of metal on metal filled the entire palace. Finally, Xibalba slashed, and Metnal tried to block it, but instead both rapiers broke at the hilt. Both gods stared perplexed at the now useless sword handles.

“Damn, a draw.” Metnal said between gasps for air.

“Best… two... out of three.” Xibalba said, hands on his knees, panting heavily.

“I think that’s enough for now.”

“She’s right, love.” Meche added.

Regaining his composure, Metnal sighed. “As you wish.” reaching out to shake Xibalba hand, he said “that was one of the best sword fights I’ve been in in a long time, thank you.”

Xibalba took his hand and shook it. “No, thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever met a better swordsman than you. Besides myself, of course.”

Patches reappeared with a cigar box. Metnal picked a large, fat one out of it.”“Cigar?” Metnal asked Xibalba. “Why not?”

“How about you, La Muerte?” La Muerte shook her head, smoking was something she hated with a burning passion.

“Meche?” “Sure, thanks.” Metnal placed another cigar between her lips. “How about a light?” Metnal asked, grinning.

Meche snapped her fingers, and a small flame burst from the tip of her middle finger. Still holding the cigar in his mouth, Metnal bent down so that his cigar would get lit. Xibalba followed suit, except he instead uncomfortably held out his cigar to light it.

Lighting her own, Meche let out a large a long breath of smoke. “Mm, these are different. Why kind are these?” “Cuban.” was the reply, followed by Metnal blowing a large smoke ring.

_ “Great,”  _ La Muerte thought,  _ “now my hair will smell like smoke for a week.” _

“Why don’t we go to the sitting room, it’d be a bit more comfortable.

Following their host, they made their way to another, slightly smaller stone room, with floor-covering red carpeting, a large black sofa, a leather armchair, and a low table separating the two. On the far side of the room was a large fireplace.

Xibalba and La Muerte took the sofa, while Metnal took the armchair, pulling Meche into his lap. The sight immediately reminded Xibalba of El Chamuco and La Noche, an observation he chose not to share. He let out a puff of cigar smoke, and upon noticing the annoyed look his wife gave him, looked to his far right and then continued to blow out the smoke.

“So, you two seem to know each other pretty...very well. When did you first meet?” La Muerte asked.

The ruler of the Land of the Cursed smiled at her. “Well, that's a bit of a long story, but why not? You see, I was on a temporary leave Switzerland when…”

…..

He’d been tracking the elk for the last three miles. Their hoof prints in the snow were still fresh. Spying a pawprint in the snow, his heart sank. Wolves. Probably already got to the elk already. Just meant another night hungry. He was about to turn around when he heard the screams.

He came across a clearing, and it was not a pretty sight. Blood splattered the snow, along with the remains of some poor bastard. Four snarling wolves surrounded a young woman,, who used to be dressed head to toe in furs. Now, from the wolves attacks, her layers of fur had been ripped off and all she was left wearing a thin tunic with some scratches in it, as well as some heavy woolen pants that had no doubt protected her legs from most of the beast’s bits.. She was trying to keep them back by swinging a tree branch at them. When one panicked swing connected with a wolf, the beast yelped in pain, and then crumpled.

  
Normally, he wouldn’t have cared, but, something about this woman intrigued him. She seemed, special. He swiftly kicked one in the side, doing no more damage than he had to. The wolves were either rabid, or just driven to madness by starvation. Its’ pack mates quickly took off. “Are you o-” he was interrupted by a tree branch to the jaw that knocked him to the ground. “ _ Motherfucker!” _ he thought, spitting out blood and a tooth. “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you.” “ _ Damn, this woman could hit.” _ “Don't worry about it, are you ok?” “I’m fine, a little… tired.” she started before slumping forward. He caught deftly in his arms. He quickly deduced she had passed out from hypothermia. Giving her a look over for any serious wounds, he noticed that she was wearing very dark shades. Possibly to prevent snow blindness? He removed them and gently opened her half-lidded eyes, so that he could see if she had a concussion based on whether or not her eyes dilated. What he saw made him gasp a little. Her eyes were a solid sea green color, she didn’t have pupils. She was blind. Her skin was olive brown, which made him assume she wasn’t a native to a colder climate. And she was actually quite, beautiful… He shook his head to remind himself of the task at hand. She wouldn’t survive long with hypothermia, he needed to get her warm, and quick. Looking around, he didn’t see any obvious trails they could have traveled on. His own small lodge was several miles away. Sighing, he knew what he had to do. 


	5. The date part 3

Taking off the thick fur coat he used to protect himself from the chill, he wrapped her up in it as tight as possible before removing his undershirt as well. Stretching his wings he picked her up bridal style and took off. He hated flying in the cold, the skin of his wings got irritated. Glancing down at her motionless form, Metnal got the odd feeling that, for some reason, she was worth it.

……

Meche woke up in a bed, covered in heavy fur blankets. There was a fire crackling nearby. She felt another pair of arms wrapped around her waist. Shooting out of the bed, she quickly realised that she was naked. She instantly grew much taller, so much so that she had to bend over to not burst through the roof of the cabin. Her olive skin tuned into volcanic rock, with cracks revealing oozing magma, her long black hair turned bright read and caught fire. Her eyes went from a soft sea green color to burning red. She heard a male voice let out a surprised yell, and all of her anger was immediately focused on the strange man. 

**“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!?”**

“Nothing, nothing. I found you getting attacked by wolves, then you passed out, and I brought you back here to warm up.”

**“THEN WHY AM I NAKED!?”**

“You had hypothermia. Your clothes were wet, so were mine. I had to share my body heat with you in order to get your body to warm back up. I swear, I did nothing else. I swear on the Valkyrie Brünnhilde’s honor. I swear on my life…”

Her anger subsided slightly, she sensed that she was still a virgin, and the memories of talking to someone with the exact same voice right before she passed out returned. She shrank back down to normal human height. Her skin  went back to it’s previous olive color, her hair want back to being black and curly.

She felt the man hand her a fur blanket to cover herself in. She took it and wrapped it around her.

“W-where’s Mr. Allenbach?”

“The man you were with? I’m sorry, but, the wolves must have been following some elk when they came across you, and they were probably starving, and uh…”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“I’m afraid so. Did you know him well?”

“No, we just met that morning. He was taking me through the forest, I wanted to get some fresh air after being cooped up in that stuffy cabin… if only I hadn’t…”

“Listen, what happened wasn’t your fault. If it wasn’t you two, if would have definitely been someone else.”

“Did he suffer?”

“No.” He lied.

Neither of them spoke for a while. The noise of the crackling fire filled the room.

“So, a fire goddess, huh?”

“Yes. Wait! How did you know that? Are you a god too?”

“Yes.”

“What are you a god of?”

“Beats me, in my home pantheon, I’m not even allowed outside of the realm I live in.”

“Where is your home pantheon? Location wise.”

“Mexico.”

“Really? Mine too!”

He grabbed her hand gently and shook it.. “Well then it’s very nice to finally meet you. Metnal.”

“Meche.” noticing the texture of the hand with surprise, she asked “Are you wearing gloves?”

“No, I… I have leather for skin.”

“Neat!” she couldn't tell, but Metnal smiled in relief.

“Meche,” he repeated,” I like that name. Seems a bit, human though. No offense.”

“None taken. My mother told me she gave it to me because it made it easier to yell at me.”

“Excuse me for a moment.” Metnal returned a few seconds later and handed her a mug of hot liquid.

“Here, drink this, It’ll warm you up even more.”

“Thank you.” Meche replied, taking a sip from the coffee. Feeling her face, she realised she wasn’t wearing her tinted sunglasses. “Oh no, where are my shades?”

“They must have fallen off on the trip here. I don’t know why you wear them though. I think you’re eyes are beautiful, in both forms. Actually, If you don’t it weird, I actually kind of prefer your natural form.” Metnal grimaced, waiting for her to get angry at him.

“Th-thank you.” Meche felt some heat rise in her cheeks. She was always a bit sensitive about people seeing her eyes, and she was especially sensitive about her natural form.. But, around this man, this stranger, she felt, at peace. Like she could be whoever she wanted to be around him. Something about his warm voice, the sincere way he complimented her, she liked.

“So, why don’t you tell me a bit more about yourself, Meche.”

“Well, my father’s Lord  Xiuhtecuhtli, ruler of the Land of the Fire. My brother’s off in the war, and my mother’s meeting with some gods from a different pantheon.”

“Well, that's all great. But why don’t you tell me about  _ yourself _ .”

“Oh, well, not much to say really. I like animals a lot, especially dragons.”

“Wow, then I guess we’ll along just fine then.”

“What do you mean? Where are you from.”

“Well… I...um.” Metnal stuttered, silently cursing himself for letting the conversation go this way this soon.”

“Um… well, Meche, have you heard of a place call the Land of the...Cursed?” he asked, cringing preemptively at her scream.

But she didn’t scream. She simply answered “Yes.”

“Well, I’m….from the Land of the Cursed.”

“...oh.”

Metnal sighed silently, now she was afraid of him.

“Do you rule that realm.”

Surprised, he took a minute to actually process that she was still talking to him. “Well, no.”

“So then how are you from there? Are you El Chamuco’s son?”

“No. I’ve honestly only barely met him once. I have no idea why I’m down there.”

“You mentioned not being able to leave?”

“Yeah, for some reason I’m not. And I’ve tried too, numerous times.”

“So then how are you here?”

“Well, I got drafted into the war under the command off the Valkyrie Brünnhilde. Currently, I’m on temporary leave, which is why I’m in Switzerland. May I ask why the daughter of the god of fire is doing in such a cold place?”

“Well, my mother’s work takes her out to these parts, and we thought we’d tag along with her. But this entire trip she’s been off working.” 

“What’s she do?”

“I don’t know exactly, she doesn’t talk about it much. I just know it involves the war.”

“Huh, well I’ll have to keep my eye out for her.”

“And what do you do, in the war?”

“Well, the lady I serve, Brünnhilde, she’s a Valkyrie. Which, in the norse pantheon, means that she chooses who lives and who dies in a battle. And well, sometimes, the people she chooses to die, need...help...to, which.... Is where I come in.”

“So you kill humans because someone tells you to.”

“Well, the ones that I need to kill are ones that have fought bravely in battle, but still must die. So, when I do kill them, Brünnhilde takes their souls to Valhalla or to Fólkvangr, both of which are like a norse version of the Land of the Remembered, except almost completely different. And I don’t enjoy doing that either, I just have to. What I prefer to do is sometimes Brünnhilde will point out a god she wants me to fight, it's more fair between two gods than one god and a mortal.”

Meche didn’t know what to make of this new information. If what he said was true, he killed mortals, something that is very easy for gods to do, but he did it because he had to and he was technically sending their souls to a better place.

“Are you afraid of me now?”

Meche was surprised at how soft the man’s voice got. Before it had this slight roughness to it.

“No. I don’t particularly like that you kill mortals. But, you have to do what you’re ordered to do, I understand that.”

He sighed. “Thank you. I don’t think I’ve met anyone who hasn’t been scared of me that hasn’t tried to kill me, besides Krampus and Brünnhilde.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, my appearance, it’s off putting for most.”

“Let me see.” Meche gripped the fur blanket around her with one hand, and with the hand reached out towards Metnal’s face. A hand guided hers, and she touched his face. She was surprised when she felt how bony he was, he had very short hair, a strong nose, and a pointed chin.”

“You don’t feel too bad.”

He laughed a little. “Well, for most people its my teeth that scares them.”

“What’s wrong with your teeth?”

“They are all like long canine teeth in the front, with some molars in the back.”

She ran her tongue over her own canines. “Must be hard to eat.”

He laughed again, this time a bit more carefree. “You might be the only person ever to have made that observation. Let’s just say, you’re lucky you don’t have to watch me eat.”

He stood up quickly. “Oh, thats right! I hung the rest of your clothes up to dry, they were completely soaked when I found you, you must have fallen in the snow at some point. Here, they’re dry now, I tried to fix them the best as I could.” he said, handing her a pile of clothes.

“I’ll be in the next room, I should go get dressed myself, plus….yeah. Call me when you’re dressed.”

“ _ He was naked the entire time.”  _ She thought, a little disturbed. She ran her hands over her now dry tunic and pants, feeling the stitches in the tunic. After putting on her underwear, she pulled on the tunic, feeling for the piece of paper she had stitched to the inside of all her clothes so she would have an easier time where the back was. Pants were easier, the button was in the front.

“Metnal! I’m dressed!”

The door opened. “Ok good! Here, I have some stew for you, you must be starving.”

Just then, Meche realised how hungry she was. Accepting the bowl with two hands, she spooned hot meal into her mouth.

“How long was I out for?”

“About a day and a half.”

“A day and a half! My father will be worried sick!”

“Well, after you finish I’ll take you back, do you kind of remember where...um, right.”

“Well, my father will probably searching the entire forest, and when he gets nervous or angry he accidentally creates fires wherever he goes.”

“Right, fires in a frozen forest, should be pretty easy to spot.”

“Um, Metnal, can I ask you a question?’

“Shoot.”

“When I was unconscious, and I was… and you were…”

“Oh. well you see. When I first brought you here, I noticed that your clothes were completely soaked. So, since you wouldn’t recover wearing wet clothes, and well, you can figure out what I had to do. After about a few hours, I noticed that you seemed to be getting even colder, so I covered you in even more blankets, and when that didn’t improve your condition, I, not because I wanted to but because I had to, (not that I was complaining)  had to share my body heat with you. And it’s a damned good thing that worked, because my next option after that was to just light the bed on fire.”

“So you didn’t… you know.”

“I didn’t take advantage of an unconscious woman in a perilous condition. I may have a few countries worth of soldiers that refer to me as ‘Der braun Bastard’ , no points for guessing what that means, and I have on occasion killed gods, but I’m not a rapist.”

Believing him, she hugged him in gratitude, noticing the jacket he was wearing felt an awful lot like his skin. 

“Are you… wearing a leather jacket?”

“Oh, yeah. My friend gave it to me as a joke, but it’s comfortable and it fits, so why not?”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Well, I guess we should go now.”

She didn’t really want to leave, but her father would probably light the entire forest on fire if they waited much longer.

“Yeah, we should.” 

“Oh, and here, take this.” He handed her a heavy fur coat. “Your old one got ripped to shreds.”

“Thank you, but don’t you need it?”

“I’ll be fine, I don’t really cold or hot really. One of the benefits of being me. Oh, and uh, Meche?”

“Yes?”

“It might be better if you don’t mention the fact that I’m from the Land of the Cursed to your father, I don’t think he’d react very well.”

“Yeah, that’d be for the best.”

He lead her outside, and then slowly picked her up bridal style. With a powerful flap of his wings, they were airborne.

……

Xiuhtecuhtli had been searching frantically every since his daughter and her guide didn’t return the night before. By now the sun was high in the sky, and he still could find her. When he had found the guide’s body, or what was left of it, he panicked, but was relieved somewhat by the fact that he didn’t find her body, which meant she was still out there.

Alone.

Probably frozen to death.

All the trees in his vicinity burst into flames.

And then he found something that made his blood run cold. A boot print. Too large to be the guide’s or Meche’s.

He desperately look around for any more prints, but there were none. She could be anywhere, with a stranger. A possibly dangerous stranger.

His whole body ignited, the snow beneath him melting, and then the water boiling.

If they so much as  _ touched _ her!

“Hello down there!”

He looked up in the direction of the voice. A figure in the air flew down towards him. As it got closer, his heart leaped when he saw that it was carrying a very alive, and seemingly unharmed Meche.

When it got even closer though, his joy was momentarily replaced by fear. It looked evil. It was gaunt and littered with scars. The only thing that seemed relatively non-threatening was it’s eyes, which shone a familiar shade of silver.

“Are you Lord  Xiuhtecuhtli?” It asked in a masculine voice.

“I am.”

“Papa!”

“ _ Mi pequeño angel!”  _ He cried, pulling her in for a tight hug. “I was so scared.” he said shakily.

“I’m sorry Papa, there were wolves...and…”

“It’s ok, you’re safe now.”

Standing up, he reflexively put himself between the thing and his daughter. “And who might you be?” barely masking the disdain in his voice.

“Papa, this the the god that saved my life. I passed out from hypothermia, and he took me back to his cabin and kept me warm.”

_ Took her back… to his cabin _ . “Oh!” he said in a cheery voice that disguised the rage that was building up inside of him.

The good took a step towards him, bent down to his level, and drew a small obsidian knife. He whispered “I did not violate her in any way.” he slit his right palm open, allowing the blood to drip onto the snow. “My word on my blood.”

He stood back up, and before  Xiuhtecuhtli could stop him, grabbed Meche’s hand. “Well my dear Lady, I must be off. I got a war to get back to. Here, have this.” He put a crocodile tooth that had been tied onto a cord around her neck. “ _ Auf Wiedersehen!” _

With that, he flew away.

Grabbing her hand the god of fire led his daughter back to their cabin. When they finally arrived, Xiuhtecuhtli breathed a sigh of relief.

“Do you think I can-”

“No.”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say.”

“I didn’t need to. You’re not meeting that,  _ thing _ , ever again.”

“Why? He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”

“You knew him for at most half a day. Besides, I know his type. Floats from one war to the next slaughtering helpless humans, violating whatever goddess comes their way.”

“Like  Huitzilopochtli?”

“Your brother… he’s different. He actually fights for something, he’s got a purpose. And he’s virtuous, not like that  _ thing _ that dropped you off.”

**“He’s a person and he saved my life!”** She screamed, reverting momentarily back to her real form.

“And how do I know that he didn’t....didn’t....”

“He didn’t. I’d know.”

“I, well… That changes nothing! He’s still dangerous, and you’re forbidden from ever meeting him again.”

“Fine!” She ran to her room, feeling the reath she had hung on the front of her door, slamming it behind her. She felt the necklace he had given her, and sobbed. When she calmed down, she conceded that her father had a right to be concerned, but if Metnal was really as bad as he made him out to be, he would have taken advantage of her while she was asleep, right?

Holding his gift to her again, she wondered if she would ever hear from him again.

……

“So, soon after that, I was discharged from service, and I made my way home. I get back, and I find this huge stack of letters waiting for me.”

“I had a servant write down what I wanted to say.”

“And I soon found out that while I can’t leave here without being formally invited, I can still send messengers.”

“Oh yeah, I woke up in the middle of the night to this bat squeaking at the window. I had to have a maid read it to me. Needless to say, she was quite embarrassed.”

Metnal looked at Meche warmly and planted a kiss on her cheek. 

“Oh, and you should hear about the first time she invited me into the Land of Fire. And believe me, If you thought her dad didn’t like me the first time we met, you should hear about the time-”

“Excuse me? I think we should be heading back soon, Xiuhtecuhtli will have a fit otherwise.” La Muerte interrupted, pointing at a large grandfather clock that showed the time to be midnight.

“Wait, so why is it that you wear the armor then?” Xibalba asked, seeming to be sincerely interested in the answer.

“Actually, the armor’s just so that Xiuhtecuhtli won’t recognize me, since he doesn’t actually know my name, or really much else.”

“Damn, I wagered that you needed to wear the armor because you were made out of smoke or ash, and you need it to stay together. La Muerte said you’d be normal-looking.”

Metnal looked quizzical. “Define ‘normal’”

Xibalba laughed. “That's what I said!”

“Excuse me, boys.” La Muerte cut in again, this time slightly more annoyed.

“Yeah, you’re right. But I promised Xibalba I’d show him around the Land of the Cursed.”

Xibalba fixed his wife with the most begging face he could muster, it was his secret weapon. Most of the time.

“Welllll, I guess if it’s only for a few minutes.”

Xibalba cheered, Metnal’s was impassive.

Gently moving Meche off of him and then back into the chair, he motioned Xibalba to follow him. Taking off his jacket and shirt, which displayed the numerous scars he had on his torso, including one that looked like a shark bite. He flexed his huge, leathery bat wings that had been folded up tightly underneath his clothes. 

La Muerte was shocked, the baggy clothes he wore hid his emaciated body well. All of his ribs were clearly visible, and his stomach seemed to stretch inwards. “Sorry, I don’t have many clothes, so I like to take care of the ones I do have.”

Catching La Muerte’s horrified expression, he shot her a small, sad, smile. “Might be hard to believe, but I’ve looked worse.”

The two gods exited through the gigantic door, and for a moment the castle was filled with intense heat, before returning to normal again.

“They seem to be getting along well.”

“Yeah… hmmm.”

“What?”

“I only know one other person with that shade of silver eyes, but it couldn’t be…” suddenly, many things started making sense.

“Meche, does he ever talk about ‘El Chamuco’ to you?”

“You mean the god that beat Metnal nearly to death, forced his position onto him, and had sicced cursed beasts on him numerous times? Yeah, he may have mentioned him  a few times.”

“Did you ever ask if, you know…”

Meche sighed. “His opinion is, and I’m quoting him here, that ‘the best parts about him dripped down his mother’s… well, you know… and stained the mattress the day he was born’ so I think, even if he is his biological father, they’re not family.”

La Muerte laughed a little, that was the same vulgar statement Xibalba had used to describe his brother before.

“Now, has he ever mentioned ‘La Noche’?”

“Your sister? He talked about her once, said he met her, but she didn’t have much to say.”

La Muerte was silent. She wouldn’t put it past Chamuco to cheat on his wife, but what if…

“You realise he grew up here, right? He may not say it, but I can tell that growing up in this place with only Patches, it was tough on him. Anyone who would do that to someone that they had helped give life to, I don’t believe they can be considered family.”

La Muerte just had a sickening realization. If he was trying to get Xibalba to be his surrogate father, that would make her his...mother… She didn’t know how to feel about that, he seemed nice enough, or at least polite. But still, could she… love him? And with the possibility that he would look at her and only see her twin sister? She remembered his letter, they didn’t want to respond. In hindsight, that could have been because they were scared, or maybe it was something else.

She’d have to talk it over with Xibalba, maybe after a glass of wine, or two.

….

Metnal and Xibalba arrived a few minutes later. Both had very serious expressions on their faces. Putting his clothes back on, he shook Xibalba’s hand. “Thank you for coming, it’s been a pleasure.”

“Yes, same.”

“La Muerte.” He gave her a short nod, and for a split-second, she spied a look of longing and sadness, before it was quickly masked by a smile as he approached Meche.

“Meche,  _ meine Lieber _ , I promise we’ll meet again soon.” he said while putting his arms around her waist.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “And you’d better keep that promise,  _ Liebe _ .”

His silver eyes flashed. “You learned that? For me?” He pulled her into a passionate kiss, which eventually had to be broken apart by La Muerte.

“ _ Auf Wiedersehen!” _ he called as they entered the carrier.

“ _ Lebewohl _ _ ” _ Xibalba called emotionlessly. Meche blew him a kiss.

As soon as the doors closed, Metnal slouched.

“Um, Metnal…”

“Yes, old friend?”

“The issue with the dragons... actually, it can wait until tomorrow.”

“No, “ he said while wiping his eyes. “their needs are as important as my own, I’ll speak with Gonçalo immediately.”

“If you want to, you look tired though.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s probably nothing a barrel of whiskey can’t fix.”


	6. A long night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night following the big date, but something's going on La Muerte and Xibalba didn't know about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! So I took over a month off from writing, not for any real reason, just because I'm lazy as hell. Some of you may have noticed the title change (if you really care about that sort of thing) and the reason for that is simple, this entire story is made up of whatever I have in my head that day, so there's going to be a lot of shifts in tone throughout. So, copious swearing, awkward dialogue, bad jokes, and implied sex await!

Meche couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty. True, her father did hate her boyfriend. But at the same time they didn't have the best introduction. She shifted in bed impatiently, she had been waiting for an hour for her dad to go to sleep. The flapping of wings caught her attention. She felt the tiny dragon land on her chest, signaling that it was the right time to leave. She took a nervous breath, and gently grabbed the creature's tail.

"Okay, and you're  _ sure _ that this is going to work?"

Their only response was a quiet hissing.

“Ok, ok. No need to get all pissy about it.”

Stepping out onto her balcony, she took a deep breath. “How do I look?” More hissing. 

“Aw. Thanks!” Now it's hissing got louder, and it starting nipping impatiently at her fingers.

“Oh! I’m sorry. Are you the one stepping blindly off a balcony? No? Then just give me a damn second!”

*annoyed hissing*

“Whew, alright, let’s do this.”

*hissing in an instructing tone*

“What the hell? ‘Put me between your legs’?”

*hissing in explanation*

“No! That was never the plan! Remember, when you told me exactly what was going to happen? When did ‘put me between your legs and then jump’ come up!?”

*more hissing*

“Of course I would have said no!”

*even more hissing, in kind of a demeaning tone*

“Don’t you start with me! No, I don’t know what I was expecting when I agreed to letting a little dragon fly me to my boyfriend’s house, but I expected a better goddamn plan than that!”

Meche suddenly became aware that she was standing outside, in the middle of the night, in her pajamas. And yelling.

“Fine, fine. But don’t get too comfortable, asshole.”

*more annoyed hissing*

With the dragon now in between her legs, she took one last calming breath, and jumped over the railing. After a few terrifying seconds of freefall, the dragon she was now technically riding began to grow, and she was suddenly shooting forward, wrapping her arms around a now very thick, scaly neck. 

 

The ride came to a very abrupt halt, and she was slung forward over the dragon’s head, which was now about the size of her entire body. Losing her grip on the creature’s smooth, scaly skin, she slipped of its head and into two bony arms.

“Nice of you to ‘drop’ by.”

She couldn’t help but groan. “Ugghhh, that's horrible.”

_ “Well this has been fun, but if you’ll excuse me, this is the first time in a month that my balls have been bigger than thimbles, so I’m going to be busy for a while. You to have fun.” _

“Same to you bro, and thank you.”

The ground shook as the beast made its exit. Metnal put Meche down and began leading her by the hand.

“So… some story you told.”

“Oh, you liked it?”

“Yeah, it was kind of weird how you ripped off ‘beauty and the beast’ though.”

“Huh, caught that, didn’t you?”

“Also the fact that almost all of the dialogue was full of ham, I don’t think any woman would stay in the same building as the stranger they just woke up naked with after passing out, and you told the entire thing in third person.”

Suddenly, the god leading her stopped.

“Ok, I don’t want to hear another  _ word _ from you missy,” he said with more amusement than anger in his voice, “because if memory serves, I sent you a transcript of everything I was going to say, and all you added was that thing about the cold and my wings.

“Because you need  _ characterisation _ in a story, little bits of information that make the characters seem real!”

“Uggghhhhh, are you two fighting already?” came an accented female voice.

“Hey Xana!” Meche chirped happily.

“We weren’t fighting, me and La Fuega here were just having a discussion.”

“WHY DO YOU CALL ME THAT!?! IT’S NOT EVEN SPANISH! IT’S THE STUPIDEST FUCKING NICKNAME EVER!”

“Says the one that thought of it.” Metnal replied glibly, trying to dodge the onslaught of wild punches aimed at him.

“Whatever. Will you two just keep it down, some of us are trying to sleep.”

“Sure thing,” Meche felt him softly grab her chin amidst her attack, “we’ll just have to find something else for that big mouth of yours to do.“

“Are- are you serious right now?” she asked incredulously, anger beginning to mount.

He laughed, “of course not. You and I both know it’d never fit.” he said, allowing the rasp in his voice to lower into a soft growl.

Immediately he was forced to duck under another flurry of blows.

“Metnal, can you ever  _ not _ be gross for one second?”

“Nope!”

“Uggh, I don’t know what she sees in you.”

Meche could almost  _ hear _ his grin spreading wider.

“What's that look f- oh son of a bitch! I’m so sorry!”

“Just realised she was blind, huh?”

“Oh shut up!”

“It’s fine,” Meche said, “It’s better than anything  _ this one _ has said.”

“Hmm, can’t deny that.”

“Ok great, well, I’m going to bed, don’t make too much noise, whatever you two do.” Xana’s footsteps echoed on the stone floor as she walked away.

“Night sis!” Metnal called. He chuckled boyishly, “she just flipped me off.”

She felt one calloused, leather hand cup her cheek. “Hmmm, now that I’m done being an asshole, did I ever tell you that you may be the best actress ever?” his tone low and soothing, he began emitting a low growling noise from the back of his throat, which she dubbed “purring” and he called “happy growling”.

_ Dammit, why does he have to purr? It so much easier to be mad at him when he doesn’t purr. _ “Really?”

“Really, for a few seconds it really seemed like you were some sweet, innocent little girl.”

“I am!”

“Of course, you just have a taste for  _ very _ bad boys.” He said with a low rumble in his voice.

They both shared a laugh, but she grew serious when she put her arms around his waist, and realised just how skinny he still was.

“Metnal, have you been eating?”

“What? Of course I have, I-”

“You know what I mean.”

He immediately grew somber. “Yeah, It’s pretty bad isn’t it? Well, the pickings have been… pussies, as of late. Last one tried to draw a blade in an unarmed duel, so I didn’t even bother with that one. Guess that’s the drawback of scaring away all the good ones and leaving yourself only the truly desperate bastards.”

“But you’ll get better, right?” Tears filled her eyes.

“It’s ok, it’s ok, don’t cry. It’s only been two years. I can almost guarantee someone’ll come along. And hey, silver lining, I have a thigh gap that puts most goddesses to shame.”

She started laughing through her tears. She pulled herself tighter into his chest, the sound of his hearts beating simultaneously was strangely hypnotic.

After a short while, she wiped her eyes. “So, did you like them?”

“Who?”

“La Muerte and Xibalba, you know, two out of the handful of gods that you know, have walked out of here alive?.”

“Right, the sugar lady and her sugar daddy.”

“Inappropriate!”

“Right, right, sorry. They seemed nice enough, of course I can’t like them  _ too  _ much.”

“Right, but didn’t you say that you and Xibalba are members of the wild hunt?”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not an asshole though. But he is one hell of a swordsman, I’ll give him that.”

“... so, hypothetically speaking, how awkward would the situation be if I gave La Muerte the idea that you are actually a ‘lost boy seeking parental-substitute’ cliche?”

He paused for a second, took a deep breathe in through his nose, and then exhaled loudly.

“Well, probably not too awkward, seeing as I don’t plan on talking to those two ever again. Paired with the rumor that Xibalba hates basically all of his children, so it's fine..”

“Oh, got it.”

There was a brief, awkward silence between the two gods, before Metnal broke it by clapping his hands loudly. (Author's note: yeah, there’s going to be a pattern of fairly awkward dialogue followed by Metnal doing something random/loud/both.)

“Well! We’ve been standing in my bedroom for the past ten minutes and this conversation has gone almost the exact opposite way I wanted it to.”

“Oh yeah, and how did you want it to go?”

“Hmmmm… I’ll let you know once PATCH TAKES HIS EAR OFF THE DOOR!”

The door slammed open. “I wasn’t listening in! I was walking by and heard crying!”

“Oh,  _ sure _ you weren’t. Pretty perverted for a guy with no dick.”

“DON’T YOU START WITH ME, BOY!!”

“Some people are trying to sleep, assholes!” Xana yelled, her voice echoing from down the hall.

“And for the millionth time, I  _ do _ have a dick.” Patch added severely, before slamming the door on the way out.

“Wow, I almost forgot how loud you all are.”

A hand ran down her side, stopping at her waist. “Yep, and now if there aren’t going to be any other interruptions tonight…”

Pushing on his chest, she removed herself from his embrace. “Easy cowboy, I think you know what I want.”

A slight sigh of annoyance, followed by the sound of leather and cloth hitting the ground, and suddenly two gigantic bat wings enveloped her. She let out an uncharacteristic giggle at the feeling, which was quickly interrupted by two rough lips pressing against her own.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.” he moaned between kisses.

“Yes I do, silly. It’s been a month.”

“My point exactly.” He said as he lifted her up and placed her on the bed.

 

(Author’s note: In the interest of keeping this story at least a little bit family friendly, in spite of the heavy violence and swearing and all the other fucked up shit I have planned, I’m not going to include any sex scenes (probably). Honestly, most of you can either use your imagination, or google image search it, and I’m calling it now that by the end of the week I predict someone will have made porn based on this. “If it exists, there’s porn of it.”)

 

(Side note: yes, I did just use the words “family friendly” and “fucked up shit” in the same sentence non-ironically.) 

 

*Dramatic jump cut*

 

When she awoke, she was warm. Almost too warm actually. She tried to push the blanket off of her, before realising that it wasn’t a blanket at all, it was Metnal’s wing. Hearing his soft snores behind her, she was tempted to just stay there. But she couldn’t. She didn’t know what time it was, but if her father noticed she wasn’t in bed, he’d start raising hell. (metaphorically) One of his bony arms was still wrapped around her waist, started slowly inching her way to the edge of the bed. She had almost made it, when that arm turned her around and pulled her back. A lazy laugh made his chest vibrate as she took in his 4 main scents: leather, whiskey, cigar smoke, and blood.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He growled happily, holding her tightly to him.

“Come on, I have to go.” she whined.

“You can’t just stay five more… years?”

_ Stay strong, hold your ground, _ she mentally coached herself.

“What time is it anyway?”

“Ummm, quarter to 9.”

“What!?” She immediately sat up, and realised from the cold air touching her skin that she was in fact, naked. Cheeks burning, she heard him laugh softly as he wrapped a blanket around her. “I’ll find your clothes,  _ liebe _ .”

She was suddenly reminded why she loved him when he returned shortly with her clothes, and a hot cup of coffee. She felt him run his fingers over the bite mark on her collarbone. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Don’t be.” 

“I guess you should be going soon.”

“Yeah.” she responded sadly, pulling him into a hug.

“Can’t catch a break, can we?” He half asked, half mumbled into the crook of her neck.

Her fingers stroked his cheek.

“At least the Candlemaker won’t come crashing in if the thinks La Muerte's cool with ‘us’”

“Do you feel bad about using them?”

“No, seeing as we didn’t make either of them come down here. Besides, It’s not like we’ve hurt them in any way.”

He was always very good at justifying whatever he did. 

“Okay, I should go. Maybe next time I’ll be able to stay longer.”

“And maybe you won’t have to use the dragon.”

She pretended to consider it for a moment. “Maybe, when your hair grows back.” She teased, running her hand through the sharp stubble on his head.

After that, he lead her to the dragon that would take her back, and she was off after a kiss goodbye. This time she was able to hold on to the dragon’s head tightly enough so as to not fall off when it stopped. Knowing by instinct where her bed was, she dashed under the covers just before the door opened.

“Meche, are you up?” Her father asked.

She faked a yawn. “I am now, Good morning.”

“Sorry, I just thought I heard a noise.”

“Oh yeah, It was Manny, he knocked over some stuff.”

“Stupid lizard.” He said under his breath.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes, ok?”

“Sure, breakfast will be ready.”

…..

 

Down below (below in a very loose sense, as the different realms being spread out in a way I can’t hope to describe, but with the six death realms being more or less stacked on top of each other, like a building, with each floor being its own never-ending world of unimaginable… aaand I’ve gone cross-eyed) in the Land of the Cursed, Metnal stared at his reflection.

 

His eyes were black pupils in a pool of grey for a moment, before reverting back into two vertical slits of silver surrounded by black re-emerged. He sighed, looking at his ‘black’ hair, before cutting it all off. He knew it would grow back white, and he knew that it would make him look exponentially older, and he didn’t care. To most people, seeing themselves with white hair and covered in scars is something they fear, but to him, he liked the scars. What he didn’t like were the dragon-shaped brands on his neck and back, those damned runes that stopped him from leaving. And what he couldn’t  _ fucking  _ stand, was the small “6” burned into his right cheek, about an inch below his eye. The thing that took the most power to conceal, and what would mark him forever as the prisoner he was born as. He smiled, if you could call it that. The leather skin of his cheeks parted easily, revealing the rows of pearly-white, razor-sharp teeth. The silver slits in his eyes glinted as the black surrounding them turned a fiery red. Now  _ this _ was the face that inspired terror in the hearts of angels. “ _ Don’t worry Chamuco, you’ll join your friends before too long.”  _ A low growl resembling a laugh built up in his throat, and when released came out resembling the laugh of a Hyena.

 

“Hey, Metnal, if you’re done being creepy, the pancakes are done.”

His mouth quickly closed, eyes returned to their normal state, and he turned to face Xana.

“Oh, haha, thanks. Whew, sorry about that, nearly scared myself there.”

“You keep doing that you’ll give yourself wrinkles.” she said, avoiding the painful and awkward discussion for now.

They both laughed at that, him slightly more than her.

Something had been on his mind for a while now. “Oh, by the way, I don’t know if I was clear on this before, but you can go visit her anytime you want to, I’m not gonna stop you.”

She shot him a small, sad smile. “You were always clear on that, but I can't. If someone catches me, especially with Sam...." Noting the almost concealed cringe at the sound of the name, she swiftly changed topics and playfully punched him in the shoulder. "Anyway, come eat your pancakes you ass before I spit in them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, and that kids is why you do not write something while on drugs. Sorry for all the swearing, if you're someone that is sensitive to that, I just needed to get across that Metnal and Meche, while gods, are really only the equivelent of 20 and 19 respectively, so they still have some maturing to do. Also, Xana is from might and majic is in this. Why? I'm not sure, just though I'd stick her in somewhere and let future me deal with it.


End file.
